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- Gunslinger
- Rep: 88
Re: Remember the time....
A friend of mine and I were tossing back a couple of (ok, maybe 10 or so:P) suds the other night and inevitably the conversation eventually treaded down the "remember that time we... (blah, blah, blah)" shit. Something funny came up that I had forgot about during the ol' trip down memory lane and I thought it would be cool to hear some of your stories about dumb shit you guys have did in the past.
One dumb thing that came up we talked about...A friend and I were stoned out of our heads one night and naturally got the munchies. We went to Hardee's and started ordering. So basically it went something like I would ask for a burger, fries, ham & cheese, frisco sandwich and then my friend would order the same thing. The lady working called back our orders and we were like "yeah, that sounds good...give me that too!!" We weren't trying to be dicks or anything we were just severely puffed and had no clue what we were doing. Apparently we were so fucked up that the girl either just got totally fed up with us (rightfully so) or she thought a bunch of people were in the car and wanting more orders like the ones we asked for originally. In the end we had like a 50 dollar bill at freaking Hardees and a shit-load of food. I remember taking some of the shit home and throwing it in the fridge where it eventually got tossed into it's rightful resting place, the trash.
Re: Remember the time....
Here's one, kindof a heavyweight to start off with. I like writing about experiences I went thru, I've written (90% done) a novel about my youth of age 22. I should post it on a pdf file online. Next I'll tell the tale of my night out with George, a cool guy I worked with. [Tom's name below is fictional, so if he ever google's his name this story doesn't come up]
Tom Light was a guy I knew from High school. A pothead, and small time dealer, I felt comfortable when I came home from college my senior year for Presidents weekend and called some buddies up they said they were going to Tom's apartment. He was having a small get together. We show up, and there's a few people over, I don't think I knew any of them except him and the 3 friends I showed up with. I always felt awkward in conditions like these. Smoking pot never helped. I grab a beer or two, and it soon becomes obvious that weed is being consumed at this small shindig. My friend Dave called me over, and I wondered into Tom's room. I believe it was the first time I saw a gravity bong. Not sure how it functioned, Tom packed it and lit it up for Dave, he was always up for a hit. He was a crazy cat, I remember one time he bought a pack of rolling papers in a 7-11 while a cop was behind him in line. To top it off, he was wearing a Joker T-Shirt, a well known rolling paper brand. Me, I would have pussied out & bought a pack of smokes. Not Dave. Anyway, Dave inhales, & leans down, pushing the 3 liter bottle down, while inhaling the rising smoke. Seems easy enough. Tom repacks it, and they joke about how it's going to be good, and I'll love it. He lights it, pulls it up and removes the cap/bowl, I put my mouth over the bottles top, and slows press down, amazed at how the smoke smoothly enters my lungs with little effort. Maybe I should have put more effort into it, maybe I did it wrong, maybe Tom had some Specialty Weed that he pulled out for me. That night took a nasty turn.
I don't recall exactly but a few minutes later I was sitting on the couch, zoned out, again unaware of my surrounding. Suddenly I lost it. The TV was no longer there, the apartment was in another dimension, the only thing surrounding me was static. Color static. The kind you see on your television if you tune to a channel that is not in your area (8, 9, 27, 44 whatever) Thousands off tiny static dots completed my peripheral vision. Then, I noticed in the middle, was a pattern of static dots, which formed a tornado shaped whirlwind. The tornado was spinning, and after a short time, began to slow down. I had to make it go faster, in time, it slowed down again, I sped it up. After a few sessions, I realized the tornado was a parallel to my heartbeat, and if it stopped, I would flatline. I was fighting for my life to keep this thing going. There came a point, where it was struggling, spinning about once a second, with only 1 pump per spin, this thing was tipping over. I kept pumping it, to little avail. Fortunately, rather unfortunately as it began getting hugely embarrassing, my friends started to wake me out of it. I remember thinking of childhood friends, and the worst sight of all, my father looking at me and talking to me like I was in a mental ward. I feared for my life. I noticed once or twice some friends slapping me, attempting to get me out of it. I began to snap loose, but was stuttering my words.. "Muh muh muhh muhhh matt.... Matt.. Matt." I said, as I recognized one friend who I knew since 1st grade. "Yeah Dave, it's me Matt. Matt." As God as my witness I never felt so helpless as I did at that moment. I remember overhearing girls say "Get him out of here." and "You should send him to the hospital" and Tom even came up and offered "Do you want me to call an ambulance" Scared, and not wanting to goto a hospital for drug use, especially hallucinations due to pot use, I declined. It was nice of him to offer. My friend Dave & Matt walked me outside, and the fresh air did me loads of good. I recovered, but didn't really want to stick around, but not wanting to ruin their night, I offered to stay. They were all mostly relieved I was ok, Dave drove me home, and I was fortunate to be able to somewhat laugh at the situation. He knew where I was coming from, he had done shrooms & tripped a few times, and knew I'd be alright. In true youth fashion, I asked him if he'd be able to hook me up with some weed before I went back to school on Monday. Sure enough he did.
Years later I'd see Tom in a local bar, funny because he pulled me aside and asked "hey man, sorry about that night. How are you, are you ok from it all?" It's nice to know friends care for you, but I was soo far removed from that night it struck me as odd. I told him yeah it's cool. Never had such an experience again. I still don't know what it was, some people say something was in the weed, others think it was mixing beer, pot and an uncomfortable scene, whatever it was it's not a place & time I'd like to return to. But I made it thru. A learning experience, part of growing up.
Re: Remember the time....
Haha, I remember a bunch of fun things from my youth (hell, I'm still young), such as peeing in beer cans and throwing them out bus windows and getting thrown out of a bar for "falling asleep" but here's a fun one for this thread.
My friend and I hung out since I moved to my new home in the ninth grade. We used to do a lot of walking and talking and had a lot of fun doing stupid things that teenagers do. Then we both moved to opposite ends of the province for post-secondary studies. The following summer, we hung out with some friends who were a couple of years our senior and had a blast. One particular night, we were at a party and another friend broke out the Bacardi 151 (75%, yes). Needless to say, we were good and happy when we left. We decided to walk home (which was about two hours away). Anyway, after we proceeded so far, we discovered that we were hungry. At the time, I held a full-time summer job at a local pizza joint. What a perfect place to eat at 1 am. We go in there and order the special, 6 pack of beer, 15 inch pizza, and 12 inch garlic fingers. We sat down and ate our garlic fingers and drank our beer giggling like schoolgirls. When the pizza came out, we each took a slice and knocked the rest on the carpeted floor, face down. We looked at each other, each recognizing the other's instinct and proceeded to eat the mangled pie off the floor. Looking back, it's kind of disgusting (the floor hadn't been vacuumed since the night before and was probably never shampooed), but at the time we thought it was funny. To this day, we still agree that it was the best damn pizza we ever ate.
- Gunslinger
- Rep: 88
Re: Remember the time....
PaSnow, Backslash, that was some cool stories. Sounds like your "trip" got a little scary for you PaSnow but you gotta love the reaction was (in the end) for you to try and score some weed! 
Backslash, if I ever see a bus coming in my direction that I know you are a passenger on...I'm walking out of slinging distance! As far as the Pizza, well as long as it didn't break the ten-second rule...
***Sidenote: I have been on the Bacardi 151 kick myself a few times myself. I always thought it strange how the 151 (being that strong) comes with a pink top. PINK!!??? WTF?
Re: Remember the time....
Here's one, kindof a heavyweight to start off with. I like writing about experiences I went thru, I've written (90% done) a novel about my youth of age 22. I should post it on a pdf file online. Next I'll tell the tale of my night out with George, a cool guy I worked with. [Tom's name below is fictional, so if he ever google's his name this story doesn't come up]......
Where I come from we call that "whitied", as in "PaSnow was totally fucked last night and whitied" 
We've all been there, it happens to me everytime I mix alcohol and weed which is something I refuse to do nowadays 
The first time it happened to me I was in University, first year Halls of Residence (student accomodation). I'd smoked pot before plenty of times but for some reason this one particular night I was fucked. Looking back I think it might have been the first time I used a bong.
One particular buddy of mine who I was close to could see I was off my face. He'd seen me stoned plenty of times before but he says that this one particular night I was "white"... not a drop of colour in my face. Like any true friend he helps me stumble back to my own room where I head straight for the window feeling like I'm gonna throw up. Whilst I'm hanging out of my (fortunately) ground floor window my buddy says in my ear, identical to the accent found in the Resevoir Dogs movie, "Billy K's super sounds of the seventies just... keeps... on... truckin..."
I swear that as soon as my mate said the word "truckin" I felt like a truck had just smashed into the side of my face. I was completely gone, couldn't open my eyes although still aware of a female student in my room screaming that I was dying. This seemed to go on for hours, with me unable to speak or open my eyes until I eventually threw up from my window all over the nicely mowed lawn outside
I found out later that when my mate had said that line from Reservoir Dogs he'd accidentally let go of the window and it had crashed down on my head I remember almost every detail from that night, and whenever I meet up with mates from Uni we always have a laugh about it now. At the time it was fucking scary but just a few hours earlier our dealer had been describing what it was like to "whitey" so even though I knew I was fucked I also kinda knew that I wasn't in serious danger.
You'd think an experience like that would have put me off weed for life but I still smoke it. Whenever I meet up with mates from Uni we smoke a shit load of weed, listen to the same music we did back then like Counting Crows, Ryan Adams etc. Of course I'm still telling them, in my stoned state, that Axl is finally going to release Chinese Democracy
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